


Tide Mother

by GwiYeoWeo



Series: mermay 2k19 [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, at least kind of a fix for chapter 9 lmao, first fic for mermay and theres like barely any mermaids in this what is this, leviathan turns them into mers, sorry lol, thats it thats the story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-04 22:28:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18822019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GwiYeoWeo/pseuds/GwiYeoWeo
Summary: She gathered the two, the Oracle and the Chosen, wrapped them in magics afforded only to the gods and bestowed only to the blessed. Magics She had once granted to a certain people, not unlike Ifrit and Solheim, and gave them a life in the cold depths below. She briefly wondered if Her children still drifted through the seas, after the thousands of years spent in slumber, but that was a task for another time.Leviathan sees them struggle, their fleeting and delicate lives dangling off a precipice. So she grants a boon.





	Tide Mother

Leviathan had enjoyed her sleep, sealing herself off beneath the sands and rocks. It had been cold, almost frigid like Shiva’s own touch, but the deep silence and absolute darkness came as a comfort. After the great War, the ocean’s deathly pits felt too much like home, promising peaceful rest and sweet tidings. But despite her slumber, she had always held a spider’s thread of consciousness, stretched thin from the bottomless trench to the surface of the tides.

It was the wretched singing of an Oracle, the sickly sweet voice that called out to all the Astrals, that interrupted Her peace. Irate, Leviathan broke through the waters, roaring with all Her fury and spitting out venomous words at the girl, going so far as to snap Her jaws at the distasteful thing.

Yet lo, the glorified fleshbag had the audacity to raise her trident against the great god, even summoning forth her strength and pushing Leviathan back.

_‘Bold thing, she is.’_ She meant only to intimidate, to threaten death with her gaping maw, to toss her into the ocean and let her swim back to shore by herself. But this Oracle, Lunafreya, held fire in her eyes and conviction in her chest, a blazing inferno that would challenge even Ifrit’s flames. Leviathan considered herself amused.

Fine then, She would humor the Oracle, would let the Chosen prove himself worthy. And if the King would fail Her simple test, then the King would surely fail in fulfilling the prophecy. And should he prophecy never come to pass, well, humanity would be doomed. Why not begin the Feeding and have Her fill, rather than let the morsels fade away to the Scourge? May as well make use of them.

But the King’s might glowed fierce, bolstered by the aid of the Oracle — cheating, perhaps, but Leviathan let it slide.

For though She had been enraged and fuming when interrupted out of Her rest, She gave them credit for their efforts. Kings had come and gone, some stronger than others, but this one proved his own mettle, holding back nothing and laying strikes on her with wild abandon. It made for a nice morning exercise, a rousing bout to wake the sleep from her fins, if anything.

Even Titan burst forth, summoning forth craggy cliffs to shield against Her crashing tides, and swatting at the flying airships like oversized flies.

But Her focus was on the King and his flitting form, Lucian magic leaving trails of ethereal blue and phasing illusions. She snapped Her jaws at the empty spaces, crushing down on nothing but mist and fading magic.

When the King landed the killing blow, digging his blade and filleting Her belly like a fresh catch, She conceded and allowed him his well-earned victory. Leviathan was only a touch bitter about the loss, only because the Feeding would be postponed, and She bowed out in a roar and a burst of ocean spray. Leviathan granted him Her favor, branding Her covenant into his soul and skin, under the black gauntlet he wore and etching Her sigil right underneath Ramuh’s.

She had planned to retreat then, to let Her consciousness drift into the Astral plane and await his future beckons now that Her physical form was broken. But She watched, as the waves flooded the ruined city and swallowed the Oracle up, as the Accursed twirled a dagger in his hand and aimed it at the fallen King's neck, reaching his other hand in mocking at one of the Chosen's companions.

She tasted blood, human yet divine and something far yet close to Her own, and realized it belonged to the Oracle, falling and drowning and breaking under the burden of the forged covenants.

_‘Hmph. Such fragile things.’_

She felt awfully charitable, then. Merciful, generous. And thought She must be getting old to be feeling so benevolent all of a sudden. She was notorious for Her mood, like the ebb and flow of Her oceans, changing with the tides and the pull of the moon — calm with the still waters, rough and churning with the typhoons.

Perhaps a gift, a boon. A reward for the Oracle's audacity, and for the rousing morning exercise with the King.

With what remnants She had in the mortal realm, Leviathan engulfed the ruins and the altar with the floods, sweeping the Accursed off and dragging the King down into Her rough waters. She was not known for gentleness, but beggars should not be choosers.

She gathered the two, the Oracle and the Chosen, wrapped them in magics afforded only to the gods and bestowed only to the blessed. Magics She had once granted to a certain people, not unlike Ifrit and Solheim, and gave them a life in the cold depths below. She briefly wondered if Her children still drifted through the seas, after the thousands of years spent in slumber, but that was a task for another time.

So She grew scales and fins in place of their skin, slick and smooth against the currents; took their legs and twisted them into one tail, with muscle to propel through the strongest of tides; slits upon their neck, one near the carotid artery and the other at the jugular vein, to allow them breath in the suffocating waters. Leviathan crafted them a similar image to what She had once taken, before the Great War forced the gods to take on their primal forms.

_"To the depths below with you, girl. You have but more covenants to forge before you give up the ghost,"_ Leviathan called out to Oracle, who cradled her King within her arms despite the shock of having her limbs turned and twisted, of given a new body entirely. _“Rise once the chaos settles.”_

The girl drew her lips into a thin line, eyebrows furrowed and eyes confused, her gaze flitting among the falling debris around her, a mix of stone and machine and blood. But she allowed herself only scant seconds to digest it all, to realize the gift Leviathan gave them, before nodding and taking the unconscious King with her, turning with a strong beat of her golden tail and diving farther into the abyss. Her hands never leaving her King's.

_'Hmph,'_ She thought, as She withdrew into the Astral plane, _'not even a word of gratitude.'_

Leviathan had done Her part, so let the world never say She was unmerciful.

**Author's Note:**

> idk ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
